


Accio Proviso

by horologically



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crushes, M/M, Minor HPCC spoilers, Minor Original Character(s), Misunderstandings, Pining, Romance, Slytherdorks in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7526494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horologically/pseuds/horologically
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Between heaving breaths Albus managed to croak, “bombshell?” </p>
<p>“Don’t be coy.” Rose said. “It’s unbecoming coming from someone currently moonlighting as his boyfriend. And not that you need affirmation, but Scorpius is gorgeous.”</p>
<p>She ran a checklist on her fingers. </p>
<p>“Tall, blond, lashes any girl would kill for, and,” Rose waggled her eyebrows with salacious intent, “very, very brainy.” </p>
<p>“A regular Warbeck,” said Albus dryly, massaging his throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 5+1: Five times Hogwarts students hit on Scorpius and the one time Albus gets his act together to try and tap it himself. 
> 
> Scorpius Malfoy is a babe and knows more than he lets on. And lo, there is much manly pining on behalf of his best friend and maybe-boyfriend, Albus Potter.

Friday night found Albus cloistered in the library. Not at his insistence, mind you, that was Scorpius. Seated next to him, back hunched, nose to parchment, Albus’s best friend was scribbling away at a Transfiguration essay that had long since passed the foot-long requirement. For Scorpius, Friday nights meant a window of opportunity to use the library unfettered by giggling first years and aggressive expansion of social clubs across the best nooks. 

Well, the former anyway. 

A group of Ravenclaws had been steadily edging their way down the table within the past hour. Soon they’d be in danger of disturbing the circle of towering books and sheaves of paper Scorpius used to mark their Library Territory. 

Albus had been watching the Ravenclaw trek between study breaks. From the knotted group of blue and bronze a quietly contested debate would routinely escalate, ending with a flurry of “Shhh!”’s and surreptitious glances in Albus and Scorpius’s direction. Scorpius, knee-deep in his studies, remained oblivious. 

Whatever they were arguing about, it’d finally come to a consensus. Albus examined a tall, tow-headed boy as he stood and broke free of his comrades. 

Ah, Caleb Davies. Sixth year Captain of the Qudditch team. Albus had spoken to Davies a handful of times in classes. He was popular, outspoken. At the moment though, Davies looked a bit like he was preparing to face a charging hippogriff. Marching to their end of the table, jaw clenched in determination, he sat himself in the empty chair next to Scorpius. 

“Er, hey.”

Scorpius blinked owlishly from underneath silver fringe. 

“Hello?” 

Davies exhaled in a whoosh. “Hi. So. My friends and I-,” he gave a jerky nod to the group behind him shamelessly watching the scene, “-were wondering if you’d like to join our study group. Y’know, knock heads together.” 

Scorpius tilted his head in confusion. Albus concurred. 

This is what the big dispute had been about? Scorpius’s help? Scorpius was brilliant, no doubt, (as was Albus, thank you very much), but surely a bunch of Ravenclaws didn’t need to recruit for brainpower. On a Friday night, no less. 

“I mean,” Davies continued, “Potter’s free to join too. “

Albus smothered a snort at the afterthought. 

“I just thought, maybe, we could, ah, spend some time together. Inter-house relations and all that?” 

There was an odd emphasis on the last few words. And was Davies…flushing? 

Sure enough, a dark stain had worked its way up his throat and across his cheeks. As if sensing Albus’s thoughts, Davies self-consciously rubbed the bridge of his –disgustingly straight and now very red– nose. 

Albus felt something indescribable clench in his gut. Davies was flirting. Davies was flirting with _Scorpius_. 

It was awful. He couldn’t look away. 

“Or we could go down Hogsmeade. Grab a butterbeer, yeah? Pumpkin juice if you aren’t the drinking sort.” 

Blessedly, Scorpius managed to cut in on Davies’s flustered babbling. 

“Wait. You’re saying you’d like to hang out?” 

“Yes.” Davies choked out. 

“To,” here, Scorpius chose his words thoughtfully, “foster what one might say are personal relationships between the houses?” 

“Yes.” Davies was practically levitating above his chair in anticipation. 

If Albus had felt nauseous at the realization that Davies was flirting with Scorpius, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. This was James sending a Bludger careening into his stomach on summer hols; writing home first year to tell mum and dad he’d been sorted into Slytherin; some unholy combination of Polyjuice Potion and a Puking Pastille. 

Over the roaring in his ears, Albus almost missed Scorpius’s next few words. 

“But that’s great!” Scorpius wore his most winsome grin. “We’d love to join you. Were you thinking of meeting sometime this weekend? Al and I are headed out to Hogsmeade ourselves tomorrow.” 

“What? ’We?’” Davies squeaked. 

A bat to the face couldn’t possibly have had the same effect as Scorpius’s admission on him. To be fair, Albus thought dazedly, it wasn’t every day one was propositioned with _affaire de coeur _, but that was hardly Scorpius’s fault. Because no doubt about it, this was a case of miscommunication. That was what had happened. Scorpius had absolutely no idea that this blushing, tongue-tied suitor was here for his hand, not a cerebral soirée.__

__“Right.” Scorpius said, smile fading at Davies’s less than enthusiastic response. “’We.’ Al and I are together. A packaged deal. I hope this isn’t a problem?”_ _

__Whatever preconceived notions Davies may have had about Scorpius, Albus, and relationships there between fled him at Scorpius’s warning tone._ _

__“No! Merlin, no. I just wasn’t expecting you to be so, er, receptive. I mean, accommodating? I mean, not that I’m one to judge your situation…“_ _

__Davies was back to babbling._ _

__Blithely unaware of the havoc he’d just wreaked upon all three parties involved (or, rather, lack of involved), Scorpius pressed on._ _

__“I just want you to know, Albus and I are always here to help. We might not be the ideal lads for your kind of job,” he gave a self-deprecating little laugh, “but we sure know how to keep ‘em.”_ _

__“Right, Al?”_ _

__Personally, Albus would rather throw himself off the high tower than admit to Davies that no, he and Scorpius weren’t together, and oh, by the way, he was conveniently single for dates with unfairly good-looking and charismatic Quidditch captains, ta. This was a matter of wits, and Albus was determined to come out the victor. So help him, if that meant a Faustian Pact with the devils of Rumor and Mill, he’d take it._ _

__Besides, he considered shrewdly, chances were Davies would exercise discretion when it came this. Who wanted to hear about his ventures into taboo anyway?_ _

__Albus nodded, tried to sound diplomatic. Sounded like a small animal being trod on instead._ _

__“Right. Well, that’s settled then. Let us know if you’d like a drink at Three Broomsticks sometime. We can talk things over.” Scorpius said._ _

__Knowing a lost cause when he saw one, Davies slunk back to his mates. Somehow it wasn’t as satisfying as Albus had imagined. His conscious twinged with sympathy. After all, it wasn’t difficult to imagine himself in Davies –the poor sod’s– position, clumsily jockeying for Scorpius’s attention._ _

__“Weird bloke.” Scorpius said cheerfully._ _

__Oh, well. In for a knut, in for a galleon._ _

__“Totally.” Albus agreed._ _


	2. Chapter 2

“What’s this I hear about you and Scorpius?” 

Albus looked up from a piece of toast he’d been buttering. 

“Morning to you too, Rose. Yeah, I’m doing well, thanks for asking.”

Rose Granger-Weasley gave an almighty roll of her eyes before folding long limbs onto the Slytherin bench across from Albus. 

“Nice deflection. Now, back to my question. What’s going on with you and and the blond bombshell?” 

Crumbs exploded from Albus’s mouth in a hailstorm. Almost like she’d been anticipating the reaction, Rose dodged enemy fire with a lazy flick of her wand.

Between heaving breaths, Albus managed to croak, “bombshell?” 

“Don’t be coy.” Rose said. “It’s unbecoming coming from someone currently moonlighting as his boyfriend. And not that you need affirmation, but Scorpius is gorgeous.”

She ran a checklist on her fingers. 

“Tall, blond, lashes any girl would kill for, and,” Rose waggled her eyebrows with salacious intent, “very, very brainy.” 

“A regular Warbeck” said Albus dryly, massaging his throat. 

“Oh, come off it. You know you find him attractive. At least, that’s the word from my Ravenclaw sources. Speaking of which, what really went on in the library last week? I’m dying to know.” 

Rose’s brown eyes twinkled with mischief, which spelled nothing but trouble for Albus. 

There was no way around it. The girl was like a dog with a bone when it came to something she wanted. Still, pride smarting from the abuse of his breakfast, Albus decided to go with a more neutral route. If Rose wanted some sort of confession, she’d have to work for it. 

“How about you tell me what you’ve heard, since I’m –how’d you put it?– ‘moonlighting as his boyfriend.’” He took a sip of water. “What’s the Gryffindor rumor mill like these days?” 

Attention piqued, stakes raised, Rose leant forward on crossed arms to give the story the credence it deserved. 

“Nothing bad. What I’ve heard comes strictly from Ravenclaw, anyway. Katie McDowell, Davies’s best friend, was talking with her girlfriend in the loo this morning. Apparently, he asked out Scorpius Malfoy last week.” 

Here, she gave Albus a significant look.

“Whom he’d only been crushing on since forever. Poor thing was turned down right there in the library. McDowell’s been doing overtime on best friend duty: junk food, Cheering Charms, the whole shebang. Funny thing is, Davies told Katie our resident Bread Head has some kind of serious, nameless boyfriend. I say ‘funny’ because you and I both know he isn’t in a relationship at all.” 

“Unless,” Rose’s expression turned considering. “The mystery man really is you. Hot Tub Incident got steamy, did it?” 

Albus took a brief moment to thank based gods and the entire celestial chancellery that he’d abandoned breakfast altogether, because he was pretty sure a Quaffle had taken up residence in his throat. Muggle-Inventions-Most-Unholy-And-To-Be-Avoided-At-All-Costs, also referred to amongst James and the older Granger-Weasley cousins as “Hot Tub Incident,” was one of the darker parts of Albus’s introduction to alcohol the summer of Sixth Year. Incidentally, this was also the summer of newfound feelings. 

Scorpius had been invited to spend part of the hols with Albus at the Potter’s home, where he took to the family hot tub like a Grindylow to water. There was an obscene amount of bared milky-white skin and lissome limbs. One rowdy evening without adult supervision and a shot of Firewisky too many proved to be Albus’s undoing. He had a fuzzy recollection of being possessed with the desire to find out just how long Scorpius’s pale lashes were, laced with droplets of water, right before his stomach became intimately acquainted with the Mandrake bushes. 

James took great delight in complimenting Scorpius on his “eyes like lodestars” over coffee the next morning. If it was supposed to be an imitation of him, joke was on James. Albus remembered nothing. In effect, he was completely without fault. 

Besides, Scorpius laughed the matter off, right? Who’s to say anything even happened? James was a filthy fibber. Known fact. 

Through gritted teeth, “Pity obliviate didn’t take, Rosie, dearest.” 

“I suppose now isn’t the time for a rendition of ‘A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love?’” she countered. 

“Look,” Rose held up her hands defensively before he could retort. “I’m not here to, er, stir the hot tub, so to speak. I’m on your side. James can be a bit of an arse about these things, but I want to help. If you really aren’t together, Bread Head’s still single, which means someone is lying about the boyfriend. What really went on the library? I know you were there. You and he are attached at the hip.” 

The Slytherin in Albus could almost appreciate Rose’s entire setup. Holding his tongue implied guilt by silence. Lying would only drive Rose to ask Scorpius, which was a fate worse than death when the truth was inevitably revealed. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. 

Uncanny creatures, women, the lot of ‘em, he thought darkly. Evidently the path of least resistance involved truth will out. 

With a herculean effort, Albus met Rose’s eyes to regale the library debacle. 

By the time he finished, she was shaking with suppressed giggles. 

“You mean to say, to drive him away, you convinced Davies that you and Scorpius are in the market for—“

“Don’t say it! Don’t you say a word.”

“—deviant sexual activities.” 

“Implied,” Albus corrected. He put chin to hand. “And you should’ve seen Davies’s face, Rose.” In his mind’s eye Albus could see him now: leering over Scorpius like a complete ingrate, poised to wrench innocence from the noblest, most pure of men. 

“Smarmy, I tell you. Scorpius’s virtue was at stake. He had no idea what he was agreeing to.” 

Rose hummed noncommittally. 

“Virtuous though Scorpius may be, I’m not sure he will be for long.” 

“Excuse you?” Albus said. 

“Don’t get stroppy with me. Y’know, Year Six really has agreed with him –people’ve noticed. He’s all strong arms and thighs thanks to Quidditch workouts now.”

Of course Albus did know just how lovely said arms and thighs were. They were a constant source of temptation in the dorm and his more shameful fantasies. Even more alarming, however, was the fact that the rest of Hogwarts had picked up on the fact that Scorpius was a bona fide Adonis. Not that Albus was resentful that his best friend had admirers. He couldn’t think of a single person more deserving of popularity. Still, Albus couldn’t help but wish all this attention was done with more decorum. Silent, distant decorum. 

“If I were you, I’d get a move on. You like him. For reference, your mum and dad—“

Impeccable timing. Scorpius chose that moment to enter the Great Hall. Good thing, too. Albus wasn’t sure he could bear to witness Rose’s next words. Something about sweeping confessions and unbridled, Quidditch-fueled passion, no doubt. 

“ _Bye_ Rose.” 

She stood, making room for Scorpius on the bench. 

“Fine. Good luck with your bread problem. I’ll be here when you want help.” 

Albus felt his face go up in flames. 

Off Rose went, whistling a tune that sounded suspiciously like “A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love” under her breath. 

Ignoring social norms was something of Scorpius’s specialty. So it came as no surprise to Albus to watch his friend slide into Rose’s vacated seat with a wholly unconcerned air and turn to study his face. 

Bright eyes roamed across his still-prickling features. 

“Red and pale.” Scorpius decided, grinning toothily. 

And with a conspiratorial whisper, “Must be the bread problem she’s on about. Let me know if you need a potion for that.” 

Albus screamed, mutely. 

Rose, he vowed, was dead to him. Even if Caleb Davies himself stripped and propositioned Scorpius at a Quidditch match in front of the whole school, he’d never ask for her help. 

Never.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for putting this on hold for so long! Finally finished up with residency apps, so I should be updating weekly to bi-weekly. Real life. *jazz hands* 
> 
> Anyway. Y'all are fantastic. Thanks for taking the time to kudo or review this slow-going fic. Looking forward to pushing our two Slytherdorks together.


End file.
